


Five Dollar Scone

by bujeetles (Oboeist3)



Series: Elijah's Super Awesome Amazing PNF One Shot Writing Challenge of DOOM [1]
Category: Phineas and Ferb
Genre: M/M, coffee shop AU, heinz and miggs are gay bros and its perf, human!peter, mostly fluffy but a little angst b/c its pandashrine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-05-31
Packaged: 2018-07-11 07:25:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7036069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oboeist3/pseuds/bujeetles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yes, Miggs Ortega works in an indie coffee shop in Seattle. Laugh now and get it over with. </p>
<p>His nametag doesn't have his name anymore, just five words. </p>
<p>Single? Yes.<br/>Interested? Fuck no. </p>
<p>At least, not until the man of his dreams walks in. He hates when Heinz is right.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Dollar Scone

**Author's Note:**

> alright so this is the first fic in my summer-spectacular series: Elijah's Super Awesome Amazing PNF One Shot Writing Challenge of DOOM which i made to make myself write shit AND provide some more pnf fanfiction (esp pandashrine) for the world! i'll try my best to upload every monday, that way if you read HYP and Never Felt Like This Before, which you def should be, the first three days of the week are sweet sweet pandashrine marathon. it's a great time to be. with that, i hope you enjoy! :D <3

Yes, Miggs Ortega works in an indie coffee shop in Seattle. Laugh now and get it over with. He's sick of being teased for it. It's not even his passion or whatever. It's just something that pays bills and grad school. It has nothing to do with the fact that he could and would marry his morning joe if possible. It's honestly purely financial. Snobs pay well for the best beans or whatever, not to mention attractive baristas.

Hence why his nametag no longer has his name, just five words.

Single? Yes.  
Interested? Fuck no.

Heinz, the fellow poor sap on his shift, finds that terribly rude.

"I mean, sh _eesh_ Miggs, the guy of your dreams might walk in someday!"

"You don't get to lecture me about romance until you man up and ask out that personal trainer you've been gushing about for months, Dr. D." he replies cooly, not even looking over to see the beet red blush it will earn on Heinz's pale face. Instead he stares out the window, watching the ever present drizzle drip drip drip onto the street and down the glass itself.

The shop is quiet at the moment, it's Friday, and the night life is buzzing. Miggs is really only working tonight for the extra pay. It was that or grading papers, maybe even both if he gets bored enough. It's not like he's lonely or anything, in his cramped apartment by the school. Don't be silly.

It takes the bell on the door ringing to get both boys back to the present, at least for a second. Miggs' brain fries as soon as he sees the guy in the door.

He's tall, dark and handsome, like something out of a James Bond movie. If he didn't know any better, he might say he _was_ a secret agent, though of course, real ones never did nowadays. His hair was black, slightly slicked by the drizzle he got between umbrella and building lip transfer. He's got big round glasses, Coke bottle thick, that don't hide any of the glint in sky-outside-Seattle blue eyes. He's wearing a white shirt with two buttons undone, with grey slacks that fit impeccably, though his shoes are worn, on their last days. His arms - fuck those arms - are big and muscular with tattoos poking out the edge of his shirt, and he's got hair _everywhere_ , including sideburns flecked grey with either stress or age. Maybe both.

It doesn't help one bit that the stranger looks straight into Miggs' soul once he sees him looking, smirking a little at the obvious interest, and after a moment: winks. What an arrogant piece of shit.

Heinz sees the flush on Miggs' cheeks and attributes it to anger, which it totally is, and that he's grown used to in their company.

"I'll go take his order." Heinz grumbles, since he's no good at remembering and has handwriting so bad not ever a doctor could read it, hence the nickname.

"No, I'll go." Miggs says, hopefully not too quickly. Heinz does raise an eyebrow, since he hates interacting with people, well just people in general, much more than him. But he's not going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Miggs picks up a pad and pencil, tucking it behind his ear, and walks over to the definitely-not-a-spy sitting in the far booth.

"Welcome to LOVEMUFFIN Cafe, providing villainously good coffee since 2009. What can I get you today?" Miggs says dryly, pencil hovering over the paper.

The man looks at him quizzically about the slogan, most people do at first, but the owner of the restaurant, Kevin, had said it once as a joke, and it had stuck. Miggs does not tell this to the man though, not up for being judged any more.

He points to something in the drink section of the menu, but his fingers are too big, with a couple of rings on them, (though no wedding ring.)

"That doesn't help much. Sore throat?" he asks, realizing only after how useless that was to ask, since he couldn't talk.

The man just shakes his head, pulling on a wire trailing out of one ear. Oh. Great. He's deaf. That makes the remark _worse_.

"No manches." he swears under his breath, earning another puzzled look. "Er, sorry. I think Heinz," he points to his coworker. "knows some ASL. Though I guess you can hear me right now. Right?"

A nod.

"Ok then. You can use this." Miggs says, sliding the little notebook and pencil to the man and says nothing more on the subject. He knows all too well how annoying those kind of questions can get. How and when and what you were doing about it. As if it were a stranger's business at all.

Dutifully, the man writes down his order, but there's something else on the paper slid back to him.

**"What's your name?"**

"What's it matter?" he says suspiciously.

**"I'm curious."**

"Well curious you'll have to stay. I'll be back with your drink in a bit."

This is about the extent of their first interaction, though Miggs waves away the man's attempt to return the pad and pencil.

"Keep it, we've got tons."

This is not true, but for the soft appreciative smile it earns him, Miggs would buy 100 notebooks.

* * *

The next time the guy comes, he's still got the notebook, with the added note of Peter in big block letters on the front. "Good to know." Miggs says to him, and proceeds to never write it correctly on his cup once. His favorites so far are 'Pewter' and 'Panda', the latter accompanied by a little doodle.

But not to be outdone, Peter returns with the title added to the front of his notebook, along with a fedora sticker. It's fucking adorable, so Miggs cedes that round to him.

Peter asks a lot of questions, not in a rude or weird way, but certainly a curious one. Miggs is a pretty tight lipped guy, but he does manage to work out that he's in grad school, from the graded papers, and that he hates everything about his life, from the scowls and outright proclamations. When asked why he wouldn't say anymore, Miggs snorted that "Mystery was his _allure_."

It's a running joke within a week.

Though truthfully, Miggs doesn't find out much about Peter either, like his job or his age or if he's single. Though that last one certainly isn't important. At least, not until Perry showed up.

* * *

Heinz had been going on about the meeting all week, though he insisted it wasn't a _date_ Miggs, I mean r _ea_ lly this guy could have anyone, he certainly wouldn't _go out_ with him! Miggs punches him in the shoulder and mutters about affirmations, and Heinz is touched. Peter snickers from the corner, his corner by now, and the infamously hot trainer comes in.

In truth, Miggs doesn't see it. Sure, the guy isn't unattractive, but he's not Adonis. For one thing, he's short. Like almost a full foot shorter than Heinz. He's got teal hair, wow subtle, dark skin and eyes so brown they almost seem red. His outfit is terrible, nothing like Peter's impeccable taste. It's all checkers and orange and bright.

Heinz though, he's clearly a goner. He looks at this fashion nightmare with big wide eyes and a blush high on his cheeks. Miggs pantomimes barfing as he calls for him, and Peter laughs his huffy laugh, hitching and open.

"Oh Perry! Over here!" Heinz says, waving overenthusiastically with both arms. Miggs is still making expressions of disgust at Peter, smiling wide at the reactions he gets. He stops when Perry gets closer though, looking away suddenly, and he frowns. What was going on?

"Hallo Perry! It's so nice to see you outside of the gym, I mean not that you don't look great there too, but you know, without all the pregnant women."

Perry does a thumbs up and something in ASL that makes Heinz blush even more. Miggs does a loud cough to bring him back to reality.

"Huh? Oh right! This is my coworker M-"

"Don't bother." Miggs says hastily, some petty part of him still not wanting Peter to know his name. Once he does, what reason will he have to come back?

Heinz looks at him, puzzled, and then shrugs. "Let's just say _someone_ doesn't talk enough." he says, before continuing. "Oh, and this is Peter, one of our regulars!" he says, pointing to Peter, who had taken to hiding behind his menu, glowering when Heinz mentions him.

**"Nice to see you again."** he scribbles, though his expression shows it clearly isn't.

"You two know each other?" Heinz asks, comically surprised. Some more ASL. "Oh you used to work together! Huh! I guess it really is a small world." he says, satisfied, but the two men are glaring at each other like there was a betrayal involved.

Miggs is intrigued. He scoots next to Heinz and makes him translate the conversation, Peter's switched to ASL as well. Though maybe calling it a conversation is more credit than it deserves.

"You look well, considering."

**"Not all of us find work at -** I don't know that sign is, it's something agency I think **\- so bad."**

"Not all of us can lie through our teeth so easily, Peter."

**"Some things are more important than personal feelings."**

Perry scowls at this, grabbing Heinz's hand and pulling him out the door, the Drusselsteinian spluttering out a goodbye. A heavy silence settles upon the shop, and Miggs goes to flip the sign to closed before sliding into the booth across from Peter.

"Ok, spill."

**"What."**

"Oh come on! You can't expect me to _not_ ask what that's about? Mysterious guy from your past? Some sort of agency? Personal feelings getting in the way? This is better than a 'Sunrise of Our Lives' episode. And before you say anything, it's Heinz's fault. Guy's so gay it _hurts_."

**"Pot, meet kettle. And it's not really so dramatic. We work for the government, no not spies, I'm sick of hearing it. More like glorified bureaucrats. Still, the info is sensitive, and sometimes an agent gets in trouble. Perry has a family. They got involved. He wasn't happy about it, and I fought for him to stay on. He said I didn't understand, I didn't have anyone. He was right, in a way, but it stung. He quit, and that was that."**

The words were so long they took up two pages, and the writing had taken almost five minutes, but Miggs didn't care. He had a burning curiosity, a need to know.

"So is it still true?" he asks carefully, eyes wide. "Or do you have someone now?" His heart was starting to race, maybe, just maybe there was a chance?

Peter hesitates, a blush stretching down his neck, and his eyes look suddenly interested in a crack in the table's varnish. Eventually, he nods.

Miggs' heart breaks.

Of course he did. Of course he had someone, some girl or boy or whomever. Why did he think he was special? Why did he think this customer cared about him? He was mean, an asshole. He didn't even know his _name_.

"Miggs Ortega." he says suddenly, testing a theory. "My name is Miggs Ortega."

He's not there the next day.

* * *

One day becomes two, becomes a week. Miggs finds himself jumping at each ring of the bell, only to collapse in disappointment. He becomes even more bitter, sharp. He blames the red rims of his eyes on allergies he doesn't have.

Heinz notices, of course, not even he's that oblivious, but aside from some awkward assurances that he'll be back, he took those coupons after all, he can't do much. He can't fix the hole in his chest from being hurt by someone. He could say that he knows the feeling, that he's sorry, but Heinz knows his friend too well to bother. Miggs doesn't like sympathy, thinks it's pity, and he doesn't get it, but he respects it. Even if that means he's got to hold his own care away until it seeps out of him like energy seeking entropy.

Miggs tries to ignore it, tries to push away the stupid feelings about this stupid customer that shouldn't matter, _doesn't_ matter. But he's a terrible liar, especially to himself. So when Heinz's boyfriend-unofficial comes around one day after closing with a notebook with a little fedora on the cover and says Peter had sent it, he breaks.

He swears and cries and pulls at his hair and curses the day he ever came here, he hates that bastard, he HATES him! Perry just stands there, like a soldier at attention, and eventually musters a slight cough, pointing to the notebook.

Miggs doesn't understand at first, that didn't change anything, but then what he means really hits him. He frantically flips through the pages, finally arriving at the one from that last day, and then one more.

**"Hey Mystery Miggs! Sorry to be absent so long! I sort of fell off a building and ended up in a coma for a couple of days, long story, alcohol was involved. But I'm doing better now, though they won't let me leave the hospital, and Perry's the only one I could trust with a civilian matter. I may have said you'd give him a free tea for it, but whatever works. Anyway, here's my cell phone number, texts only pls, so you won't miss my scintillating dialogue a second longer. Oh and when I get out, I think I'm going to treat myself to food that isn't designed to kill me. Know any good places? I'll pay for yours too. ;)"**

Miggs laughs so hard Perry starts to think he might be having a stroke, but when he looks up, his eyes are gleaming with tears and he's grinning so wide it looks like his face was cut in two.

"One tea, coming up." he eventually says, and takes a picture of Perry with it to send to this new number plugged in his phone.

TO Pewter the Panda  
perry.jpg  
you're paying for that tea next time you're here, asshole  
don't go dying on me again either  
there's a nice thai place near my apartment though

FROM Pewter the Panda  
i make no promises #noragrets  
sounds like a date <3 <3 <3

"Yes." Miggs says aloud to himself, smiling. "Yes it does."


End file.
